


One that Got Away

by bestdamnsalad



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, F/M, Regret, Unrequited Love, mentions of shumako, since that's the only thing I can write :), vague descriptions of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 10:16:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20469374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestdamnsalad/pseuds/bestdamnsalad
Summary: I don't know what I'm supposed to do, haunted by the ghost of you





	One that Got Away

She wished she could have said those three simple words. She recited them like a mantra to her lover, constantly reassuring him that she loved him wholeheartedly. He whispered it back to her, into her hair, when they finished making love. She honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.

It was just a simple phrase. Nothing more than three simple words, eight letters. Makoto had thought of the phrase everyday, reflecting on its meaning almost as deeply as a philosopher might. 

All the nights she spent entangled with him and she could never utter three simple words. A girl who prided herself on her newfounded bravery had been too afraid to spit out the truth.

* * *

Their first time had been an accident, she tried to convince herself. An accidental brush of hands, staring into his piercing reddish-brown eyes for just a moment too long. She accidentally ended up back at his apartment. 

When he kissed her - her first kiss, of course - she blossomed for him, realized a part of her she didn’t know existed. She swore it was the first time she felt electricity run through her body.

Tender touches eventually evolved to grabbing, shoving, rough kisses.

And there they spent their first time.

The morning after had left them basking in an afterglow neither had known was possible. 

And thus, their transgressions were born.

* * *

Makoto learned of his true identity long before he laid his truth bare to her. So she let him spew his rehearsed words to her. And then he said it.

“I love you.” 

Of course, she believed she had misheard him.

“What?”

“I love you, Niijima Makoto.”

Her heart stirred within her, burning with the desire to repeat his words, to end up in his arms and live out a fairytale with him.

But it was to never come true, she knew. 

“I can’t see you anymore.”

* * *

The last time she heard him, he cried out for Ren.

As much as she pounded on the wall, begging for him to run, he would not obey her command.

She was second in charge, after all. He always liked reminding her of that fact.

He never bid her farewell. He actually never bid anyone farewell.

She deserved it, she rationalized. She was the one who left, the one who never returned his feelings, despite it being obvious. 

Then, gunshots.

She swore they pierced her, too.

* * *

Akechi Goro haunted her dreams. 

She watched him die every night in her dreams. His last words echoed in her nightmares, perfectly preserved as if he whispered them into her ears every night. Sometimes she’d awake in a cold sweat, sit up in bed, and turn to her lover, expecting for the ever familiar Akechi to stir besides her.

She isn’t sure if she’s supposed to be glad or disappointed that Ren stirs instead. 

* * *

The night they gave up searching for Akechi Goro, Makoto had been tasked with cleaning out his desk. She bit back the tears as she poured its meager contents into the cardboard box, leaving the silk tie for last. She felt its fabric against her fingers, reminiscing the first time she pulled him into a kiss with it, how soft it felt when it tied her hands up numerous times. 

She pocketed the tie.

Now it decorated the inside of a box she kept in the very back of her closet. 

How fitting.

* * *

Akechi Goro is gone.

Every year, on the anniversary of the fated event, the Phantom Thieves visit the memorial they arranged in his name. With no body, there had been no burial. Most of their friends take a moment to stare down at the plain headstone - they insisted he was not religious in any way - and walked back to the car. The only two to stay behind would be Ren and Makoto.

“I could have saved him.” Ren would say after clearing his throat.

“Please,” Makoto could shake her head, “It’s too late.”

“You two were close.” He’d respond with after a few moments. 

Makoto would give a small smile, “Not as close as he was with you.”

And it was true. The pair had a close bond and an even closer rivalry. Complete opposites.

She’d lean down, lay a single flower on top of the bodiless earth, and walk towards her friends before Ren realized how freely the tears ran down her cheeks. 

* * *

It had taken Makoto plenty of time before she could forgive herself. For letting him die without knowing how she truly felt about him. For letting him die without being loved. 

For letting him die. Period. 

She would always remember the nights they spent together, how their little friends with benefits game had turned into true feelings.

Their last night together had been when Akechi revealed his truth to her.

He offered her consolation of course, and the ability to leave without falling too deeply into the web he had spun.

She was a fool. So she left, words left hanging and unspoken for eternity.

* * *

She remembers his favorite food (sushi), his favorite genre of music (pop (although he would always lie and say classical)), how he always had a book on him in case his work lulled.

So many years have passed and yet he still lingers in her memory.

Perhaps it’s her fault; she clearly never had closure.

Maybe it’s his; he could have stepped back a few inches and survived.

Finding herself daydreaming more often, Makoto swears up and down to find a new hobby. She wonders if the corner bookstore is still open.

* * *

It is her wedding day. Makoto stares down the aisle at a man who she loves with all her heart.

He knows this.

As she signs the marriage certificate, she finds her hand slipping, writing something out of subconscious realization.

Makoto A.

She’s grateful Ren’s family name is Amamiya.

* * *

Their children ask her about how they met. She finds her tongue betraying her, slipping a false memory into her speech.

“Cram school.”

She curses inwardly.

“Isn’t dad a year younger?” 

“Yes. I meant high school.”

They seem content with her answer and skip merrily off to play some other childish game she’d never truly understand.

She looks through her yearbook that night. She finds his picture. 

The nightmares are worse that night.

* * *

Ren and Goro were two completely different people. 

Yet they both looked at her with an intensity that shook her to her core.

Goro was a possessive lover, trying to claim her as his within instants. He would get ahead of himself, clearly trying to keep his feelings separate from their sins. He'd realize his mistake and immediately wrap her in his arms, pressing dozens of kisses to her face. He never meant to hurt her and it absolutely pained him when he did hurt her. After learning his lesson, his touches grew hesitant until she gave him reassurance. Their love making was always perfect from that moment on. He touched her in a way only he could; immaculate perfection radiating from their lessons. When he pulled away and gazed into her eyes, running his fingers through her short hair, she knew. 

Ren was a gentle lover, willing to take his time with her, waiting to make sure every moment is perfect for her. He touched her slowly, as if her skin was made of glass. Sometimes she’d find herself begging him to handle her roughly, to push her around, make her his already.

She’s seen the sadness in his eyes, resigning herself to never break him like she had been broken.

He would continue to kiss her as if she was a goddess he wanted to worship.

Not exactly as an equal.

But it was okay. He wanted the best for her.

And this was the best for her.

* * *

Makoto wondered if Goro had survived, would she end up with him? Or would he always slip from her.

If she had told him how much she loved him, would he be the one sleeping next to her? Just like it used to be? Would he still hold her so tightly she thought she would stop breathing at any moment? Maybe she should have held him just as close, if not closer. 

She yearned to push his shaggy hair out of his eyes once again, wishing to see the little smirk he always gave when she did that. How she longed to hear him tease her once more, to feel his breath against her skin as he whispered her name.

Would their wedding be as spectacular as her actual one was? Would their first dance be perfect as Goro had always prided himself in being? Did he even know how to dance? 

Perhaps she’s better off with Ren, anyway.

Of course, she wouldn’t marry him if she didn’t think that.

She loved him.

And he knew.

* * *

Waking up in a frenzy, Makoto launches herself out of bed and immediately goes to the closet. She rummaged through the box, hoping Ren wouldn’t hear.

She needed to find it, that damn tie.

Black and white teased her peripheral vision. She grabbed the silk tie, clutching it in her fist. Tears pricked the back of her eyes.

The only thing she had of his.

She left the apartment, no longer in the headspace to care if Ren heard. With the last train long gone, Makoto resigned herself to walking the distance to the memorial. 

Moonlight shone on the headstone, twinkling ever so slightly against the puddles that formed around it.

She clutched the tie tighter.

“Akechi Goro. I...We have so much we need to talk about.”

A slight breeze picked up, ruffling her short hair, kissing the nape of her neck.

“I’m...so sorry. For everything.” With the silence, she continued, “I keep thinking about all the ways I could have changed, but I never run into any positive conclusions...for us.”

She didn’t expect anyone to respond, but she paused anyway.

“I cherish the time we spent together. No one had treated me like you did. I’m sorry I couldn’t return the favor. I wish…” The tears rolled down her cheeks, “I wish I saved you.”

Light rain fell from the heavens. Makoto allowed the water to wash over her, unfazed. 

“I cared about you, Goro. Always have, always will.”

She dropped the silk tie onto the bare earth before the headstone.

“I love you too, Akechi Goro.”

She began to walk home when she turned back to the headstone, “Now, please stop haunting my dreams.”

She slept soundly that night.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Hey all, I've been trying to write out some fluff for the past few weeks but I always end up going back to angst. Hopefully this story was enough for me to get it out of my system.  
I have quite a few unfinished longfics planned to come out soon so stay tuned :)  
Thanks to everyone who's been keeping up with my stories. You guys mean a lot. 
> 
> also if you're curious about me, my twitter is @/bestdamnsaladd (bestdamnsalad was taken by salad photo blog, ironically)


End file.
